A Place to Call Home
by Spinofflady
Summary: Heather has been seaching for a home her entire life, and luckily for her, Fishlegs is there to help her find it.


A Place to Call Home

Heather sat at the table with her friends, lost in her own world of thought. She absentmindedly stirred around the food on her plate, her head propped up by her free hand. Her food was getting cold, but she simply wasn't hungry. She couldn't remember the last time she had been able to enjoy a meal without unwanted thoughts interrupting her.

She could not stop thinking about Dagur.

First his "death" had caused her to rethink her opinion of him, then she discovered he was still alive, only to find he was working for the Dragon Hunters. And it was yet another surprise when she realized he wasn't actually working for the Hunter's, and left her with a "Berserker promise."

What was she supposed to do? She couldn't very well believe him—he'd never been trustworthy before—and she couldn't completely doubt his word either. He seemed so sincere, so desperate to prove he had changed, but every instinct she'd gained over the years warned her not to trust him.

"You okay?" Astrid gently elbowed her friend from her place next to Heather.

Heather glanced up. "Oh, yeah. I'm fine."

Astrid offered her a smile in response and joined back in the conversation, which was slowly becoming the post-supper rowdy affair that it usually was. Heather stood, taking her plate and those of her friend's back to the kitchen.

The laughter that came from the other room told her she was missing the fun, but Heather wasn't interested in the fun at the present. With a sigh, she slipped out the kitchen door and headed for the woods. Windshear followed her, obviously disappointed they were leaving.

Heather didn't mind missing the fun and games. She enjoyed quiet solitude over the noise, and besides, she desperately needed to clear her head. She needed answers, but deep down she knew she would likely never get them.

She wasn't sure why she was even bothering to hope Dagur would come back. It seemed ridiculous in her mind. He set her a drift as a toddler…why should she allow him to be considered family now? He had the nerve to waltz in and out of her life, either making it miserable or trying to be the best brother possible.

She felt torn, as though she had a rope tied to each arm and she was being pulled by them in opposite directions. One yanked toward her friends and those she knew she could trust, while the other countered in the direction of what could be her family.

Heather sat down heavily on a fallen log, hunching forward as if there was a great weight on her shoulders. Everything was just so confusing. If only she could know whether Dagur was serious…it would make waiting for answers so much easier.

"Heather? What are you doing out here?"

Heather looked up abruptly, smiling slightly as she caught sight of Fishlegs coming toward her. "Nothing…just thinking."

"Oh," he replied, looking relieved. "I got worried when you disappeared from dinner."

She smiled wider. She would never get over how thoughtful he was. "I'm okay. I just needed to clear my head."

"Oh, uh, then I'll leave you to it," Fishlegs offered her a smile and started to back away.

"No, no. Stay. I like a little company." _Especially if it's yours,_ she smiled to herself.

Fishlegs walked over and sat down on the log beside her with a sigh. "It's beautiful out tonight," he commented, gazing at the sky.

"It sure is," she replied, already realizing how his presence improved the situation. The was a comfortable silence as the two stared at the stars, each one soaking in the magnificence of it all.

"Heather," Fishlegs said suddenly, turning to her. "I can't help but notice. You seem different tonight. Are you feeling okay?"

Heather stared at the ground. There was no point in hiding it from him. "I feel fine," she started slowly. "I just can't stop thinking about Dagur."

Fishlegs leaned forward, attempting to make eye contact with her. "What about Dagur?"

"Well, the fact that he's alive for one thing," she replied flatly, scuffing the ground with her boot. "And that he wants to reunite our family for another. He thinks he can just barge in and expect me to forgive him for everything he's done to me—to our family." Her shoulders sagged as the events of the day turned in her mind.

"You have to admit, Heather, he is different," Fishlegs told her pointedly. "Maybe he's serious. He flew into a death trap to save you, after all."

Heather hesitated to give a response. Whether Dagur had changed or not, he had saved her life and the lives of her friends. She couldn't argue with that fact. And he had protected her from Ryker and Viggo on numerous occasions…she groaned quietly. Dagur just didn't make sense. She would never understand his deranged ways.

She didn't want him in her life. She was just starting to accept being a Dragon Rider, just getting used to this style of life, and Dagur came charging onto the scene like a Cavern Crasher, only to leave in the same manner.

Heather could never live with that. She could never accept Dagur's unpredictability. Maybe that was why she liked Fishlegs so much. He always kept his word, he never abandoned his friends, he was sweet and thoughtful and-

She was at it again—rambling on inside her head about how much she liked Fishlegs and why. She couldn't help it though; Fishlegs would always be one of her best friends.

She wished he was more, though. Heather couldn't help feeling hypocritical—telling Astrid to "express her feelings"—when she was just as hesitant to do so.

Fishlegs suddenly placed a hand on her arm, turning her to look at him. "There's something weighing on you, Heather—something you're not telling me."

She dropped her gaze, too ashamed to tell him. "You wouldn't understand."

"Try me."

The seriousness in his voice caught her attention, and she glanced up at him. His expression proved to be just as serious. She drew in a deep breath. "I just…I feel so alone." She hung her head, knowing what a stupid thing to say it was.

Fishlegs drew back slightly. "Why?"

"I…I know it's stupid. I have Windshear and I have you guys…I still feel alone sometimes."

Fishlegs took her hand in his, tilting her chin to look up at him. "Why?"

"I've tried to make Dragon's Edge my home," Heather began sadly, gently sliding her hand out of his grip. "But I can't help but feel like I'm intruding. You guys have been a team since long before I came into the picture. I don't belong here Fishlegs. Don't get me wrong, you've made me feel welcome and I love it here, really. But the Edge is where I live—it's not my home. And when Dagur showed up…everything is just so confusing. I feel lonely because I don't have a place where I belong. I'm a Berserker—I should be living with my people, but I don't fit in there either. I just want a place to call home."

Fishlegs sat quietly for a minute, staring at the ground. Heather could only hope he understood, even if she didn't comprehend it fully.

"I can only imagine what this is like for you," he started gravely. "To be torn between your friends and family is something I don't even want to think about. But I hope you know that you will always belong with me, even if it means…well, whatever it means. I'll be here for you."

Tears threatening to fall, Heather turned and threw her arms around him. Fishlegs wasted no time in returning the gesture. She melted into him—he gave the best hugs.

"Thank you," she mumbled into his shoulder. "I hope you know how much that means to me."

"I hope you know how much _you_ mean to me," he replied sheepishly, squeezing her.

She giggled, and without thinking, pressed a kiss on his cheek. Immediately realizing what she had done, she pulled back with flaming cheeks. "I'm sorry," she stuttered, nervously glancing away.

"It's okay," he replied just as nervously and with cheeks just as red. "Uh, Heather?"

"Yes?" She tried to stop blushing, but it only made things worse.

"Um…can I kiss you?"

Heather blushed even deeper, but smiled. "Thank you for asking. Yes, you may."

The smile that broke out on Fishlegs face was by far the most ridiculous she'd ever seen (except for maybe her brother's), but he was either to nervous or too ecstatic to make a move.

So Heather made the move for him. She gently pressed her lips against his, the warmth from them spreading down to her toes and making literally everything seem wonderful.

It kind of ruined the idea of "him kissing her" but both were so caught up in the kiss to care. If she were to try and put the moment into words, the only one that would to mind was "sweet." Everything was "sweet"—sweeter than she'd ever expected them to be. Her hands somehow ended up draped around his neck, and his warm arms were tenderly wrapped around her. Heather pulled back from the kiss, just far enough to snuggle into his chest, with a smile that could light up the world.

Fishlegs squeezed her affectionately. "I promise Heather, I will help you find a place to call home."

"You already have," she beamed up at him. "Home is where you are."


End file.
